I'm Dating That 'Idiot'

A Personal Story by Bonnie Foust

I have always loved sports. First from a spectator to a participant and then returning to the spectator arena with my children, my admiration of sports has grown. But now I see a different side.

Three years ago I entered a relationship with a man often referred to as “Zebra,” “Blue,” “Idiot” and a whole gaggle of colorful names I shouldn’t repeat. Standing six feet tall, broad shoulders, with a calming presence, he is “The Official.” With him is where my new appreciation began. The more time I spent with him, the more I learned about “The Official.”

Attending his baseball games, I became aware of how fans, players, and coaches treated him. Moms and dads alike taunted with degrading remarks, often accompanied with strings of profanity. Most of the words from the bleachers never reached his ears, but they sure did mine.

I remember a game in Oklahoma where a dad paced the stands yelling, “You’re horrible” over and over. My first thought was why does he have to yell mean things? My thoughts turned to how the guy needed a bigger vocabulary. The guy was really slamming my boyfriend and never once did I say, “Gee, is that your son in center field who missed two fly balls? He sure stinks.” Now wouldn’t that be rude?

Trips with him were a great opportunity to hear the tales of the trade. I began to realize how much he really loved his job. Calls from the road frequently retold the events of the day … some good and some not.

My personal favorite was the one where he ejected the announcer. “The Official” called a fair ball to the dismay of the home team and a run was scored. During the recap of the inning, the announcement was, “The visiting team scored three runs on two hits and one foul ball.” Those were his last words.

If you want to learn a lot about baseball, go have a drink with a group of umpires. Recently “The Official” took me to meet a few of his colleagues. Hours passed, tea glasses were refilled and the stories flowed from the wisdom of more than 60 years of experience on the field. This is what a regular girl who brings her seeds and sunglasses to the park for a nice day of baseball learned:

• Four-letter words are not good (safe, ball, walk).

• Even the shower is not a safe haven from an angry coach.

• Never throw your hat. (There was a story involving a coach and his entire bullpen being ejected for that one.)

• Umpires have “No emotional interest.”

• If you are good to the game, the game will be good to you. (Bull Durham could have used that one.)

• Coaches, if your wife assaults an umpire or two in Oklahoma, she very well may go to jail and it will probably cost you.

• Stephen Strasburg is a great guy to work for.

• The first-base coach should never signal the call. He’s only allowed to say, “Turn left.”

• Umpires are never above the game; they are a part of the game.

• The golden rule — the quickest way to go to the bus — don’t make it personal. Stay away from the word “you.”

We spent a lot of time laughing, but sometimes things got serious. We talked about the bad things that happen. They told stories of being held up in a locker room because a guy had brought a gun to the field or the one where a young umpire at a tee ball game was hospitalized with a broken eye socket because the coach got mad. There was a recount of an umpire’s girlfriend who was hit by a car in the parking lot when a fan (a coach from a nearby university) was trying to run over the young man. That coach lost his job over the incident. Sounds silly, doesn’t it? “The Official” said, “The next thing you know we are going to have to poll the crowd on every call in order to stay alive.”

In an occupation that sometimes requires you to stand in 70 mph winds in an open field or brave temperatures ranging from 100-degree heat with no shade to 30-degree cold with a wind chill of 15 degrees, the last thing you should have to worry about is being ridiculed, spit on, threatened or even assaulted.

To all: Remember, those guys out there are someone’s dad, son, husband or boyfriend and they are out there to help your son or daughter be the best athlete he or she can be.

When I ask “The Official” why he does it, his eyes twinkle and he replies, “For the love of the game.”

And that is the last word.